


Death on Two Legs

by fangirlandtheories



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot Collection, Whump, no beta we die like ben, will update tags as I post
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2020-10-24 06:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20701214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlandtheories/pseuds/fangirlandtheories
Summary: A collection of hurt/comfort pieces for Klaus involving the family. Feel free to leave request in the comments. I will update the tags with warnings as well as post warnings in the notes.





	1. Fight From the Inside

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt: On his Knees- A look into the Mausoleum. TW for panic attacks

Concrete in it’s most basic description is water mixed with rock, sand or gravel aggregate, as well as powdered cement to bind it all together. When mixed properly, each component works together to create a hardened substance that can withstand most force. Concrete was very much like the Hargreeves children, with each of their unique abilities pulling together to create a team that was virtually unstoppable. However, not every component was correct. At least not to their father’s standards. Klaus was always the greatest disappointment with his powers verging on useless. He was always too sloppy or distracted or simply not strong enough to be able to be of any help to the team. If his siblings were concrete, he was a wrecking ball and that meant that he deserved to be punished. Concrete was also, oddly enough, what he had been kneeling on for the past seven hours.

The Mausoleum was colder than usual, Klaus noted, as he pulled his blazer closer to him. It’s possible that it was because of the massive amounts of unsettled spirits swirling around him, screaming from hundreds of years of pain and abandonment, but it was also possible that it’s because it was February. His uniform didn’t do much to combat the cold, being only a button up shirt, a blazer, and a pair of shorts, so he wrapped his arms tightly around his knees, shivering violently as gusts of wind blew through his hair. He knew, deep down, that there was no way it could’ve been the wind, but instead spirits reaching out and grazing his curls, but he had once heard that ignorance was bliss and decided to play the fool. Soon, however, the touches became impossible to ignore and he ran for the door, pounding on the hardened metal, sobbing his pleads for release. His sobs fell on empty, dead ears and he fell to his knees, directly onto that cold, hard concrete, and cried and screamed until his voice was gone, and then cried a little while after. After another six hours, the door finally opened, pushing him backwards.

“You’re pathetic. You spent the better part of a day here and and you’ve not managed to make any progress. The only good to come of this is that you’ve been rendered nearly silent, so why should I let you go?” The monocle glinted in the early sunrise that crept through the darkness.

“They,” Klaus coughed, feeling the roughness in his throat tearing with each word. “They t-touched me.” His voice croaked with the strain of screaming for many, many hours.

“Interesting. Very interesting indeed. I will look over the footage and decide how to proceed with your training. Until then you are free to go. You may rest until seven but I expect to see you alert and present for breakfast.” Reginald then moved aside and allowed Klaus to exit the dreaded building.

Klaus felt the burn of his cramped muscles and the unforgiving cold deep in his bones, and knew that despite having about three hours to rest, he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that morning, no matter how weary he was. As he slowly trudged up the stairs, he felt the aching in his knees and realized that they were a deep black and purple from the many hours he spent on them on the concrete. He heard a small noise, and glanced up to meet Ben’s eyes through the crack of the door to his room. He almost looked concerned, but just as quickly as he appeared, the door shut. 

When Klaus made it to his bed, he made sure his fairy lights were on as bright as they could go, not wanting to face the horrors of the darkness. He took out a sharpie from the tin he slipped under his bed and started writing on his walls. His siblings never understood what it was that he wrote, and to be honest, most times he forgot the meaning of the words as well, but most times he wrote the words that the kinder spirits asked him to pass along. He was their legacy and despite despising that fact with every fiber of his being, he felt that he owed something to them. He often wondered why he was born to speak to the dead but in some twisted way, he kind of understood. He went unseen by everyone and existed to see the invisible. He spoke their words because just like them, no one really ever heard him. He glanced at the clock and read 5:47. That meant a little over an hour before he had to slip on the carefree Klaus mask and pretend like he was okay because that was all he was allowed to be. His door creaked and a jolt of fear spiked through him. Looking around wildly, he searched for the ghost that were coming to touch him again. He could still feel the cold grazing of their boneless grasps. He suddenly couldn’t breath and everything was going a little fuzzy.

“Take as deep a breath as you can.” Ben urged as he quickly sat next to him on the bed. He had seen the daze in his eyes when he was walking up the stairs and knew that he needed to come check on him as soon as the coast was clear. “It’s me, not a spirit. I’m alive and so are you. Feel my pulse.” Ben gently grasped his hand, Klaus flinched and pulled away. 

“Please don’t… I can’t… Just not…” Klaus tripped over his words as he moved closer to the wall. “Please.” He whispered as tears pricked in his eyes.

“Okay, that’s okay Klaus. I’m sorry I touched you.” Ben had been in this situation a few times with his brother but he was normally tactile and used touch to ground him, so he knew this trip must’ve been much worse than usual. “Can you try to match my breathing?” Klaus nodded quickly, jerky in his movements. After a few minutes of breathing together, he was starting to finally come down.

“I know I told you not to touch me but… I think I could use a hug now.” He whispered. “But if you don’t want to, I get it, I’m all dusty from the Mausoleum and-” He was cut off by the strong embrace of his brother.

“Jesus you’re cold.” Ben pulled the comforter around the two of them and tucked it around Klaus’s shoulders. “We’ve got about 20 minutes before we have to go down for breakfast, so you’ll probably want to change out of that uniform because you are pretty dusty, I’m not going to lie.”

Klaus stood, joints cracking and popping into place as he did so, causing to release a contented sigh. He went to his closet and began pulling things out until he came across a sequined skirt that Allison once owned before he laid his eyes on it. He held it dramatically over his body and turned to Ben.

“Do you think Daddy Dearest would like this?” Ben chuckled as he strutted around the room, slipping some of that pretend happiness into place. Ben’s smile faded when he saw his knees again. Klaus followed his gaze before turning around and grabbing a new uniform. “Thank you… for caring I guess. I’m fine, really. It doesn’t even hurt that much, just a little sore, so you don’t have to mother hen me.”

“Klaus, we both know that it hurts enough to notice so stop trying to pretend to be okay for once and let yourself feel something.” Ben huffed.

“Get out.” Klaus looked down. Ben rolled his eyes and stepped forward, words bubbling up on his lips. “Get out now. I have to change and I only have about ten minutes.”

“Fine, but if you need me to help you remember that you’re alive, despite all of the death that is around you, you know which door is mine. I’m always going to be there, even when you don’t think you’re worth it.” With that Ben left.

Even though about ten years and Ben’s death had come and gone, Ben remained by his side through thick and thin. They stuck together through all of the most challenging moments and reminded each other what it meant to be alive. Their bond was stronger than any of the other siblings and even stronger than concrete.


	2. Doing Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where will I be this time tomorrow? Jumped in joy or sinking in sorrow? Anyway, I should be doing all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Headache

Fuzzy. His head felt fuzzy. He sat up and immediately regretted it as the fuzziness washed away and all that remained was pure pain. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, the light assaulting his already pounding brain. As he tried to wipe away his unconsciousness, he glanced around, trying to figure out exactly where he was.

“We’re at the club.” Ben was kneeling beside him. “What the hell just happened? I couldn’t interact like I normally can… I was like one of the other ghosts.”

“I died.” Klaus bluntly put it, as he staggered into standing.

“What do you mean you died?” 

“Benny, I wasn’t alive, met God, she’s a real hoot by the way, talked to Dad, and now I’m here.” Klaus grunted. His patience was wearing thin, and despite the fact that he had just awoken, he just wanted to lay down for a little while.

“Okay so I’m going to kill Luther.” Ben sighed as they began to walk for the exit. Outside was bitterly cold as November was in full swing. Ben, of course, couldn’t really feel the cold but Klaus, in his sleeveless vest, was shivering rather intensely.

“You gotta find him first.” Klaus squinted and looked down at his feet, seeming to concentrate solely on walking. Ben hadn’t seen him this sober in a long time and it was different from the many walks through the city that they had shared while he was either drunk or high. Klaus was always, always, talkative but now as they walked, they walked in silence. The only noise was the sound of his breath coming out in puffs of steam in front of them. 

“Klaus…” Ben left the question unasked. At this point he didn’t really need to say more than that, as they had done this so often that it was completely unnecessary.

“I almost took it.” Klaus whispered, ringing his hands together. He looked so upset, but more so with himself than anyone else. “My one job right now is to stay sober and I can’t even do that right. I crawled across the disgusting floor of a club for one tiny fucking pill! I’m pathetic, no wonder Dave doesn’t want to see me.”

“Sobriety isn’t exactly easy for your average Joe, let alone one of us, especially you. Most people don’t hear and see the dead constantly. You almost slipped up, sure, but this is horseshoes and hand grenades. Almost counts for something. You resisted and guess what? That is good enough. Luther isn’t nearly as strong as you are.” Ben patted his back, then glanced down at his hands. “You’re doing it again.”

“What?” Klaus looked at the blue light radiating from his own. “Oh, shit. Not that I’m not dearly happy to have you join us, but this might look bad to normal people.”

“Focus on that tug in your stomach and imagine that there is a dial, like on a stove.” Klaus closed his eyes, picturing that image exactly. “Now turn the dial until it’s off.” It took a few tries, but Ben slowly faded from existence. As his hands dimmed from blue, Klaus swayed and stumbled forward. The ache in his head was now throbbing in time with his pulse. His stomach lurched as he turned and vomited.

“Call Diego.” Ben urged as he sat beside his brother.

***

Klaus hadn’t had such an intense migraine since he was a teenager. He used to get them all of the time. With ghosts shouting in your ear nonstop, your brain can turn into a painful pile of mush. That was when he wasn’t sober, however, and now he couldn’t take anything stronger than infant ibuprofen. He threw an arm over his eyes, blocking out the harsh light from the dim fairy lights of his room. He was afraid of the dark, so turning them off wasn’t really an option, but keeping them on hurt. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Then there was the noise. With Five, a well known, accomplished assassin living in the mansion, the ghosted increased ten fold. He shivered as the sound of moans and pleas for help rang through his room. Diego hadn’t picked up for some reason, and none of his other siblings were to be found, so he dragged himself home, stopping to puke every once in a while. Grace had let him in, tucked him into his bed, and brought a bucket, just as she was programmed to.

“Mom,” He whispered as he heard her walking towards the door. “Can you stay? Just for a minute?”

“Well I do have a few minutes before dinner will be ready, so I suppose I may.” She sat on his bedside, and rubbed her hands down his arms, as though she was slowly warming him up. It didn’t provide much in terms of healing, but he certainly felt less lonely. “You’ve had a tough few days, haven’t you?”

“You have no idea.” He sighed, eyes feeling heavy.

“I know it isn’t much of an offer, but I am still your mother, if you need to talk, I’m here.” She smiled down at him.  
“Were you sad when Dad died?” He asked, truly curious. “You’ve lived with him for 30 years and raised us, so what did it feel like to lose him?”

“Klausie, your father was such an interesting man. He collected you children, but never understood you. He treated life as a science experiment and I will forever be grateful that he gave me the opportunity to be your mother, but I felt nothing when he died. It doesn’t matter how long you were with someone, if you love them it feels like an eternity, and when you don’t, it feels like even longer.” She paused. “I was programmed to feel love, I know because I love each of you so dearly, but I never loved him. I almost felt happy because maybe you would all return to me and I could feel love all over again.”

“Well, I’m here to stay and Ben is stuck with me, so you’re stuck with the both of us.” His voice was full of sleep as she continued to comfort him. As his eyes drifted slowly to sleep, he dreamed of Dave. Grace rose and went to collect the long forgotten roast beef from the oven. It may be burnt, but it was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed, please leave a kudos and a review. I'm @fangirlandtheories on tumblr if you want to follow or leave any request. Thanks so much!


	3. Long Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a fight, Ben decides he needs some time away from Klaus, but no good things happen when they separate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wake up in the morning with a good face, stare at the moon all day. Lonely as a whisper on a star chase, does anyone care anyway?
> 
> Warning: Noncon Possession and vomiting.

Vestigial:(Ves-tig-i-al) Adj. meaning degenerate, rudimentary, or atrophied, having become functionless in the course of evolution. If you were to ask Reginald which of his children he considered vestigial, his obvious answer would be Vanya, but his second choice would be Klaus. He wasn’t exactly a fighter and he was often distracted, sometimes by ghosts, sometimes simply by his need to constantly socialize. If missions were kickball teams, he was always picked last, so the idea that Five was looking to him for help was unheard of.

“I don’t need to tell them to help ‘process my trauma’ jackass.”

“Because I’m not traumatised!”

“Oh so you think I can’t handle this on my own?! Why would they even care?”

“For fucks sake, can’t you haunt someone else for a little while.” 

“Because I’m sick of seeing you right now. Yeah, detox made me want to vomit less than your stupid face.” Five rolled his eyes, bracing himself to enter into what appeared to be a one sided argument. Of course he knew it wasn’t one sided but he could only hear Klaus. He shook his head and jumped through the wall into his bedroom.

Klaus’s room, in comparison to the rest of the house, was Narnia. That is, if Narnia was over stimulating and a little fucked up. There were clothes strewn about on the floor and draped over chairs with bright colors and loud patterns, such that only Klaus would be able to pull off. The room smelled of stale smoke, both weed and cigarette, but also of patchouli incense he always had burning in the corner. On his bedside table was an ashtray filled with burnt butts from the last week and a half. Don’t Get Me Wrong by the Pretenders played softly from the speaker of Klaus’s phone, laying beside him on the bed. The walls were covered in posters with tape that had turned yellow with age and had long since lost most of the stickiness. Also covering the walls, notes and quotes, all in sharpie and all in Klaus’s rough handwriting. Klaus himself was wearing a cropped black hoodie with no shirt underneath, and lilac yoga pants. His hair was tied back in a sloppy bun, the dog tags hanging loosely around his neck.

“Christ on a cracker, Five! Ever heard of knocking?” Klaus jumped when Five appeared with a flash. “You don’t know what kind of naughty things I could have been up to.”

“Fighting with dust particles. Everyone in the house can hear you” Five rolled his eyes, scrunching his nose at the strong smell. “I need to borrow you for a little while though.”  
“I charge by the hour and you could never afford me” He winked, a sly smile fell across his face. 

“I have no doubt.” Five huffed. “This requires your paranormal expertise, however.”

“Alright, what are we talking about here? Pretend psychic? Ouija board?” He gasped in delight, counting the options on his fingers. “Seance?”

“I need you to talk to an old dealer.”

“Yeah, good one.” He exaggeratedly wiped pretend tears from his eyes. “And people say you don’t have a sense of humor.”

“Can you not be serious for one minute?” Five huffed in irritation.

“I know why I came to mind, but don’t you think this goes a bit beyond the whole ‘Klaus you need to get sober’ kind of dealio?” Klaus quirked an eyebrow. “Not to mention, Di was a cop for half a minute, he’ll probably know who you’re looking for.”

“Technically, yes, but Diego can’t help me here, only you. We’re looking for Paul Damon.” Klaus stilled at the name, face growing pale. “So you’ve heard of him?”

“Have I fucking heard of him? Number one, I bought from him before and almost died. Number two, he was killed in the most infamous shootout on this side of the city. If you think I am going to find his spirit and have a tea party with him, you’re crazier than I am.” Klaus suddenly jerked to the empty side of the room. “You stay out of this!”

“I’m well aware of his history, but in Dad’s notebook it mentions him so I need to know why, so either you come with me voluntarily or I kidnap you.” Five threatened.

“Is it kidnapping if the kid takes the adult?” Klaus wondered aloud, turning toward the empty side of the room once again. “Oh it’s a bad idea? No shit Sherlock. Let me guess ‘Klaus I have to advise against this for your own safety because I’m a controlling party pooper’” Klaus made a face as he pantomimed. “That is exactly what you sound like. Since you say I shouldn’t, I’m going to.” He stuck his tongue out before turning back to Five who was massaging his temples.

“So you’re coming voluntarily?” He sighed.  
“Only because Ben is against it and I’m mad at him.” Klaus smirked. “Oh go ahead, the silence will be a nice change of pace!” He shouted over his shoulder.

“I take it that he isn’t joining us?” Five asked.

“No, he’s going to hang around Allison and Vanya because he needs to ‘listen to actual adults’ for a little while.” Klaus shrugged, waving a hand in the general direction of the door. “His loss. Let’s go.”

***

“Ah the beautiful scent of asbestos.” Klaus breathed deeply, taking in the decrepit building around him. “It really opens the sinus like nothing else can.”

“Is he here?” Five ignored his humor, favoring to just get to the point.

“Not yet but I’m really feeling some negative energy in this room.” He wiggled his fingers, giggling as he impersonated a television ghost hunter. “Was that a tap I heard? Does that mean your name is Bill?” He laughed.

“Focus dipshit. The sooner you speak with him, the sooner we leave.” Five crossed his arms. “Can’t you like… call out to him or something?”

“Oh Paullllll!” Klaus cupped his hands around his mouth. The air turned cold, his breath coming out in a puff. Five instinctively wrapped his blazer a little tighter. “Pauly boy!!” Out of the corner of his eye Klaus saw movement. “There you are, you little scamp. We’ve been calling for you.”

“Mousy Klausy, I was not expecting to ever see you again.” The spirit growled at him. “Thought you were finished with my services.”

“Well when you almost kill someone, they tend to remember it.” Klaus shrugged off the insulting nickname. He’d been called much worse by much better. This is why Ben didn’t want him to come along. They had a bit of a history that Klaus was apprehensive at best to rehash.

“Ah come on, you and I both know that it’s harder than that to kill you. I’ve seen you come back from a lot.” Paul smiled. “Me on the other hand…” He gestured to his ghostly form, riddled with bullet holes. Five cleared his throat, causing both of them to turn and look at him. 

“Who’s the boy scout?” Paul asked with a chuckle. “One of your old hookups finally catch up with you?”

“My brother.” Klaus quirked a brow. “He has some questions.”  
“The hell is this, show and tell?” Paul floated a bit closer.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Klaus’s hands began to glow, dousing the dark building in a bright blue light.

“Paul Damon? I’m Five.” Five nodded his greeting.

“And I was 38 when I died, what’s your name though.” Paul squinted at him.

“His name is Five.” Klaus snickered.

“You knew our father.” Five got straight to the point.

“Your father?” Paul shrugged. “You’ll need to narrow it down, I had a lot of satisfied customers.” Klaus scoffed at the mere idea of his statement. “Mostly.

“Reginald Hargreeves.” Paul’s face darkened, form flickering along with the single light in the room.

“Hargreeves is your dad?!” He bellowed, turning on Klaus who took a step back. “Makes sense as to why you never mentioned it, Klausy. It was your fucking fault.”

“Klaus, what’s he talking about?” Five quirked a brow, noting the strong smell of ozone taking over the room. Power was brewing along with anger.

“I don’t-” Klaus winced, paling slightly as Paul looked just a little more solid than the previous moment. “I don’t know.”

“He got me killed because I ‘poisoned’ one of his little shit stains.” The room suddenly shook with the ferocity of his anger. “It’s your fault I’m stuck here!” Klaus desperately shook his hands, trying to make him less solid.

“I don’t understand!” Klaus shouted over the sound of wind whipping through the room. “Why would he care? He never cared before.”

“He was mad I only poisoned you. He wanted me to finish the job.” Paul’s voice echoed in a sort of ethereal sense. “He paid me well and I took off with the profit without making sure you died. There was enough fentanyl to kill a guy twice your size, it doesn’t make sense.” The building was swaying dangerously now, the younger looking of the two brothers noted, it was going to fall, soon. “If you had fucking died like you were meant to, I’d be alive. I’d get to see my kid grow up!”

“Klaus!” Five shouted as dust began falling from the ceiling of the shaking room. 

“I’m trying!” His eyes were shut tight, voice strained with effort as Paul ran toward him. Just as his body would’ve connected, Klaus’s hands stopped glowing and he disappeared. Klaus fell forward onto his knees, panting heavily.

“Well that answers that.” Five adjusted his tie, annoyed at the literal dead end. He gave Klaus a few minutes to compose himself before growing impatient. “You coming?” He walked toward the door. 

“Yup.” Klaus picked himself up rather unsteadily, cracked his neck, and walked past him toward the car. Five squinted in confusion but chalked it up to overexertion from using his powers.

***

Despite the morning argument, Ben was having a fantastic day. He enjoyed just basking in his sister's presence, wishing he could be visible, but accepting that this was as close as he could get without Klaus.

Allison was giving Vanya the self defense training that she missed out on as a child, but after only a few minutes they just laid out on the mats and were reminiscing about the rare moments of fun they had as kids. Ben smiled at the fond memories, maybe he could talk Klaus into coming next time so that he could join the conversation. He laughed at Allison’s haughty impression of their father, when he heard the front door slam shut.

“Back so soon?” He thought before going to see how it went. He watched Five, shoulders tense with obvious annoyance, a side effect of spending the afternoon with Klaus, flash away, presumably to his room. Then he turned his attention to Klaus. He seemed… off. He was practically vibrating with a sort of angry manic energy, despite looking dead on his feet, looking all around the building before his eyes came to rest on the portrait of Reginald hanging in the living room. He stood silently, breath coming out in angry huffs before he turned and noticed a mounted decorative knife. Despite being decorative, it was very sharp. He marched forward jerkily, picked it up, and with an animalistic growl, slashed through the canvas.

“So I presume that went well?” Ben laughed. “I feel like this is the best time to say ‘I told you so’.”

Klaus said nothing but cocked his head at him, almost confused. 

“Did Paul tell you anything juicy?” Ben squinted as Klaus moved closer to him, eyes studying every detail of his form. “Like what he laced your shit with to almost kill you?” Klaus slowly reached a hand out and then stared at it in shock as it went through him. “Jesus, what is up with you?” Before Ben’s question was answered, an angry voice came from the doorway.

“Master Klaus, what is the meaning of this destruction?” Pogo pointed toward the portrait. Klaus jerked suddenly toward the chimp. “Explain yourself.”

“Revenge.” Klaus growled and Ben knew something was really wrong. He had never heard him speak with such coldness before. Not after being kidnapped, not after being presumed high even when sober, not even when Klaus told him the story of what his ‘training’ was as a kid. Klaus always had a very sweet, goofy innocence about him, so hearing him speak without an ounce of warmth in his voice felt off. Pogo must have noticed this as well because he turned his head toward the doorway. “Master Diego can you join us a moment?”

Diego came in with a very confused look on his face, adding to the group of people staring at Klaus. Ben saw the moment that something inside of Klaus flipped from looking like an animal being cornered, to an animal about to attack. Without any further warning he launched himself at Pogo with a shout. 

Diego, normally quick to respond, hesitated due to the shock of the situation before he attempted to peel his brother from their butler. He grabbed him by his waist, but it was almost like he was made of lead, being held down in place. Klaus’s strength could fool many, but he wasn’t  ** _that_ ** strong. Diego grappled with him once more and rather than pulling back, rolled him to the side, but found himself pinned down by his brother. His pupils had blown so wide that his eyes were practically black. He aimed a punch for Diego, but he expected it so he grabbed his wrist before it landed. Klaus smirked before wrapping his other hand around Diego’s throat, choking him.

“Klaus!” Ben shouted, unnoticed. “Stop!!”

“I- Can’t!” Klaus’s weak voice came from a gurgle in his throat. “It’s-” He panted with effort. “It’s not me!” His other hand was pawing at the hand wrapped around their brother’s throat, trying desperately to peel it away. Ben saw the outline of another person, blue like him, shift around Klaus’s form before Klaus yelled once more, tightening his grip.

“Shit!” Ben’s eyes darted around, trying to come up with a plan. “I’m sorry Klaus! I need you to use your powers. Tell me how he did it.”

“I’ll-” He grunted. “I’ll m-make you solid, just run at me before he takes control again” He had tears streaming down his face. 

“Klaus…”

“Just do it!” He shouted and Ben felt himself solidify. He took the opportunity and ran at Klaus, evaporating into a dizzy tunnel of Klaus’s mind. He could feel what he felt, hear what he heard, remember his memories. For all intents and purposes, he was Klaus.

Diego was struggling under the strong weight of Klaus when he heard him yell. The grip on his throat loosened enough for him to get a good gasp of breath before he rolled out the way of danger once more. Panting, desperately replacing the oxygen that had been missing before, he glanced up at his brother. It was honestly the weirdest display he had ever seen, which was hard with Klaus as a brother. It almost looked like he was beating himself up. In fact, that was exactly what he was doing.

Once Ben figured out how to control Klaus’s limbs, he knew he could win. He could feel Paul trapped inside with him, hear his angry wails, but Ben was no stranger to being in the same body with an angry, violent monster. ‘Sorry Klaus…’ He muttered as he caused him to sucker punch himself. Pushing hard against Paul’s form, trying to push him out without being pulled out himself. In the back of his, or really Klaus’s mind, Ben knew that his brother wasn’t faring well. At some point the cries of pain quieted to whimpers and then into nothing at all. “Klaus?” Ben called into his subconscious, hoping, praying for a response.

“H-hhurtss.” He heard a faint whine. “Please just stop. Make it stop. I can’t anymore.” Ben felt the rage boil within him. Paul had already almost killed Klaus once, he couldn’t get away with it again. Ben looked around before noticing the wall near him, he ran at top speed knocking his body into the wall as hard as he could. Paul was visibly rattled.

“Jesus Klaus!” Diego yelled, trying to grab ahold of his brother’s flailing body parts and holding them down. He pinned his arms back and lifted him by the waist, causing his feet to kick wildly. Ben took the opportunity to push again, this time putting all his anger and might into it. Klaus’s body went rigid before he choked and vomited. Diego quickly put him down. He was shaking, sobbing, and exhausted. He slumped against the sofa and let out a distraught wail. “Klaus?” Diego reached forward to help him up.

Klaus batted his hands away with a sad, hysterical giggle. “Daddy would be so proud, I’m not so useless anymore.” He wiped his hands against his cheeks and pulled himself up and to the bathroom, but somehow, no matter how hot the bath water was, he couldn’t shake the chill of having no control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So season 2, huh. Hit that comment button if you sobbed like I did. Sorry this took so long but I'm back.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at fangirlandtheories

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave requests in the comments. Come visit me at fangirlandtheories on tumblr.


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